Broken Mirror
by Stephanie MRV
Summary: This is a angsty one shot centered around Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger post war. Tragedy has struck our favorite heroine and this story shows how Draco deals with it as well as how the entire Malfoy family is dealing with life post Voldemort. I know its a short summary but i cant say more without giving things away.


**This story was made as a title challenge by Acantha Rayne Oak-Moon. We all got a large selection of titles and from there we made our own stories. While there are no specific pairings i did this on purpose to leave things more open for the reader to do as they wish in their minds. **  
**  
I would like to give a shout out to Dash (AKA Tempest E. Dashon) who was lovely enough to put up with me and act as by Beta/Red ink Slasher for this story. Thanks for all the help Dash. I know i would never have finished this if it hadn't been for your help and encouragement. **

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**Broken Mirror**

Through the floor to ceiling windows the moonlight reflected off the floors giving the illusion of shining stars. The glass was scattered around liberally in what used to be the drawing room. A large gaping hole drew the eye to its center even with the massive amount of damage done to the room itself. The walls were slashed and burned. The remnants of the plush carpets now ash and the chandelier now a giant ball of mangled metal. The smell of fire and booze hung heavy in the air.

His alabaster skin looked ethereal in the moonlight as he stood on the windowsill. The blood staining the white borders from his feet where he stepped on the glass contrasted heavily. He stared listlessly onto the expansive grounds of his ancestral home. It had once been a gleaming jewel envied by many older pureblood homes. None had amassed as much land nor had they filled it with as much opulence as they had. Only the grandest of events had ever been hosted on this land, now it was a stain on their legacy. He wanted to burn it all to ash.

He walked out of the room not caring about the newly made cuts his feet received as he made his way to his bedroom.  
No one stopped him. His mother was a wreck who fluctuated between fretting over him, his father and their home or simply sitting listlessly on her favorite chair and watching the day slip between her fingers. His father simply drank…every day…all day long. He had neither drive nor desire to do anything anymore. None of them did. Their magic had been restricted and they were all confined to the manor grounds for at least three years, for himself and his mother. His father would not leave for a decade. Lucius Malfoy had not taken his imprisonment well.

He didn't care one way or the other. They had gotten off easy and he knew why. The golden duo had testified in their defense, well more his mother's defense. He had been deemed a minor forced under duress and pressure from and over his family. Weasley never lifted a finger to help them, not that he expected as much from vermin. That had been the last time he had seen Granger, eight months ago in courtroom ten, standing next to Potter and surrounded by Aurors for protection. It was announced only a few days later that she had collapsed in the Weasley family home and been admitted into St. Mungos. Since the day of her collapse, the Daily Prophet and other news reports had speculated on why the possible reasons for her decline of health. The current theory favored was that she had received enough damage to her body and magical core from her 5th year to her torture at his manor and the spells inflicted on her during the final battle that her body had just shut down.

Over night she became something larger than life. The once Gryffindor Princess became a saint to her peers and the people as hope started to fade as more time passed and fear of losing her took hold. He followed the reports from the papers with a drive he had not felt in years. It became his obsession to find out and collect all he could, be it written reports, hearsay, or rumor, since he was limited in his mobility. The Malfoy gold still bought him information but not like before. She had been put under Potters custody since she had no magical family to speak of. Minister Shacklebolt made sure it went through without a problem. Her prognosis only got worse as time went by and little by little the healers began to lose hope, as did the public.

Potter was reported to have become beyond distressed. He had taken it upon himself to be responsible for her condition. He was reported to be by her side every day as no one turned him away even after visiting hours. He was their savior after all, they would deny him nothing. Granger had been placed in one of the secure rooms for her privacy and protection. Her face was reported to be all over Diagon Alley and Hogsmead. Prayers and well wishes were posted in the paper by many citizens and other ministries even dropped by and helped pay for her care. Potter had protested at first that she was his responsibility but gave in after talking to the Minister.

Their problems at the bank had been taken care of as well since denying her access now would not look good on the Goblin nation. However, they did charge the Golden trio a hefty price for the damages done to the bank. Weasley lost nearly all of the money from his Order of Merlin paying back his share and had been reported to loudly bemoan it at bars after a few pints. Potter never batted an eyelash at it. To him it had to be done to access his vaults to pay for Grangers care and nothing as small as a fee for damages done was going to get in his way. The solicitors hired by the Minister however had made it all easier and his sole attention was able to stay on doing everything to get Granger better.

The papers took a tragic as time went by, no one expected her to ever recover as no progress was reported. It was ironic how he was now reduced to wishing for her to wake up, when before he had wanted her in a bed exactly as she was now, hurt or dying.

His room was better now than when he left it. The elves had done their best to clean it after he had destroyed it, again. It was the same routine every weekend. After no positive reports he would trash his room and drink himself numb. The elves would repair what they could in the room, then clean it and him while he was passed out on whatever liquor he had found to consume. There was barely anything of value left in this once opulent room. It reflected its owner better now, both a shadow of their former glory.

Sick of standing in a place that no longer fit who he was he went into a small room connected to his bedroom suite. It used to be a private study but now it was so much more. He sat in the lone simple chair in the middle of the room and stared with fixed eyes at the walls, every inch covered corner to corner in paper. He stared fixedly at the wall as every inch was covered. This room he never trashed. He always preserved it. The wall behind him was filled with reports about her. They begin with her as undesirable number 2 to her becoming a crowning war heroine and ending with her being admitted into the hospital. Everything that had to do with the war and after it was behind him. It was somewhat symbolic in its placement. The three walls remaining were much more detailed.

He had acquired a pensive that was very expensive and very hard to get. A pensive that could not only let you view your memories but also takes photographs inside those memories that could be extracted upon leaving the silvery liquid. Thankfully his trust fund had provided enough to acquire such a rare item. With it he went through all of his years of schooling and captured her image. He refused to capture her crying, which sadly he had many memories of, and none of the time from her imprisonment in his home. The walls were filled with a young eleven year old Granger, her face still innocent and fresh and filled with the wonder of her world, to the warrior witch she became, her eyes hardened with battle and her face fierce with her intent.

He found respite in this room more than anywhere else in his home. Here was a place of his own creation. A place of devotion. A place he wished he could one day bring her so she could see how much he loved her. Yes, he loved her. He had an infatuation in school but during the war he knew what his feelings were and that he could never express them. His parents knew he liked her. His mother most of all. She had never seen this room, neither of them had, but they knew whom he pined for. His father never said a word about it once he knew. He simply sneered and left it at that. Draco knew it was because he had been magically neutered and because Granger was as good as dead. Still, he knew his father worried for him.

His mother however knew him best and it broke her heart to see him love someone they had ultimately tried to make him hate. She had once told him this and she wished she could make things better for him but she believed he could find love with another witch someday. He did not speak to her for two weeks after she had uttered those words. His mother had kept her peace once that fiasco was over. He would never love another. He did not want to simply marry to carry on the family name, a name he now despised…Draco only wanted her.

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(Two Years Later.)

At the moment he was not only feeling murderous, which had been lingering for some time, but also betrayal and a smaller bit of wrath. However, pure elation was becoming the most prominent emotion coursing through him even if he still felt apprehensive and impatient. His love for her had happiness overriding all of the other negative emotions and he tried to hold on to that one emotion instead.

After finally finding out what was wrong with her they had the cure. It would still be difficult since she had been in a near vegetative state for the better part of three years but he didn't care. She was going to wake up. No matter what complications happen he would take care of her. Kingsley had put the best to work on the potion and spell that would finally wake her and here was the hard work being put to good use. He waited with Kingsley at the far end of the room behind a shield in case they got in the way. In front of him were the unspeakables tasked with performing the short spell and administering the potion that would end his nightmare.

Once they stepped away the healers rushed in and ran their diagnosis on her prone form. She was twitching slightly but that was more movement than he had seen in years. He was weeping and Kingsley had his arm wrapped around his shoulder smiling and giving him support. It was working. The healers took another minute working and then stepped back as well and finally allowed him to come forward.

He didn't waste any time and rushed to her side. Taking her hand in his, he reveled in the movement that she made. He had his eyes glued to hers as they moved underneath their lids. He waited on baited breath as she finally opened her eyes. Her honey brown eyes focused on him instantly and he knew he was crying tears of joy.

Hermione Granger was finally awake.

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**There you have it folks. I know it feels like a cliffhanger, and it kind of is, but since i dont think i will continue this i decided to leave it like this so anyone can insert their ideas. Hope you all enjoyed it. :-)**


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